Note: This story is retroactively being updated and condensed to fix pacing issues. As such, the following chapter contains what used to be the original fourth and fifth chapters; other slight changes and adjustments have been made to the text to bring it within context of later chapters.

Balance. Control. Peace.

The three were the three central concepts that Korra focused on. She refused to let her mind wander from these ideals as she sat near the water on Air Temple Island. She was alone, and the solitude granted her a state of tranquility that she found lacking elsewhere.

Initially, Korra hated meditation. It was slow, boring, cumbersome, tedious, and seemed to require such little effort that there was almost no point in doing it at all. But, once she learned to listen, concentrate, she found that she could experience a connection to the world that she never could have dreamed of. When she was focused, she could feel the gentle tide being pushed and pulled by the gravity of the moon. She could feel the surging of rock beneath her. She could feel the wind and its course throughout the sky. She could feel the movements and heartbeats of everyone in the city. To Korra, it felt like being part of nature, and strangely enough, it was soothing to her.

Sadly, it was when she was at balance, control, and peace when she was interrupted by Kai, who rudely stomped over the ground and disrupted the entire environment around him.

"Tenzin wants to see you," the crude, seventeen year-old informed her. She groaned audibly, and opened her eyes to gaze at the serene bay before her.

"You know I'm busy," Korra stated bitterly. "Everyone knows I'm busy."

"He said to come get you. It's not my fault that he insisted on doing it now."

"Well, tell him to wait. I need a clear head right now."

"He said it's urgent," Kai stated firmly. The youthful boy that Korra once known had grown into a fairly capable young man, although based on what Korra knew about boys, it probably meant that he became less mature as time went on.

"Tenzin of all people knows how important it is to meditate," said Korra. "The only reason he'd interrupt me is if there's something extremely important going on. I'm pretty sure I'd notice if something extremely important was going on."

"Why are you questioning me?" Kai asked, getting frustrated. "What is it with you and never believing anything I say?"

"Because last time you told me to leave a room, I found you and Jinora in my closet," Korra said, remembering the night painfully. She had honestly expected better from the young airbenders. She understood that they were teenagers, and were probably storing lots of pent-up energy from living a monk lifestyle, but she thought that they could have at least behaved themselves less like wild animals. When she was their age, she didn't have raging romantic and sexual desires. In fact, the worst thing she did was date Mako, and that was probably about the tamest thing she could have done.

"That was, like, a year ago!" Kai cried, feeling his cheeks grow hot. "Tenzin actually needs you now. Besides, what are you doing meditating anyway? You never do these kinds of things often."

Korra sneered. The balance, control, and peace were all but gone, replaced with the horrifying image of two love-drunk kids bundled in her closet late one weekend night.

"If you have to know, I'm a bit stressed out," Korra explained carefully.

"Relationship troubles?" Kai instantly assumed.

"She's been so busy lately. We went out to breakfast yesterday, and all she could talk about was this big meeting she had to plan for. She was obsessed with it. I'm not sure if Asami's been this stressed out in years."

"Oh man, do I know that feeling," Kai sighed, plopping himself down next to Korra and crossing his legs. "Women. Always freaking out over everything."

Korra glared at him. "Uh… you do know you're talking to me, right?"

"You know what I'm saying," Kai said quickly, trying to cover his tracks. "I just mean that… well, you see… women usually—"

"Kai, shut up before you accidentally say something even more sexist."

Kai promptly said nothing.

"I know Asami is going to be fine," Korra said softly. "I mean, it's just a business meeting, and she has enough charisma to tame a wild wolf bat, but she's afraid of her company going under, which makes her afraid of letting down her family's legacy, which makes me worry about her state of mind, and it just triggers a huge, never-ending cycle of worrying over each other that just makes me want to sit here and forget all of that and be somewhat at ease so I don't chew my fingers worrying about that meeting which is going on right at this second that she could have already aced or she could have already screwed up permanently or—agh!"

Korra stood up and threw her hands in the air in defeat. "I'm going to talk to Tenzin! You've screwed up my entire mental state!"

Korra walked inland, leaving Kai alone by the blue water. He watched Korra as she went, and then shrugged, placed his hands behind his head, and lounged. He had no idea why she began speaking faster and faster, or why she suddenly decided to leave a perfectly fine—and not at all sexist—conversation. All Kai knew was that, for certain, he clearly did not understand women.

Asami was sitting in a comfortable chair in a comfortable room. The lush red walls that surrounded her felt welcoming, and the sounds of the violin played over the radio. She sat at an empty desk, waiting to meet the man who, if all went well, would help save Future Industries from another economic disaster. Unfortunately, Varrick sat next to her, and his insipid babble slowly driving her mad.

"So while you charm him, that's when I reach around and sucker punch the fella before he knows what's even going on!" proclaimed the mad genius.

"What are you talking about?" Asami questioned him a fifth time. "This isn't war. You're not going to sucker punch anybody."

"You know what I mean. If there's one thing for certain about Shang, it's that he has ridiculous tastes. You need to work around his head and get him to play ball our way or the highway."

"Well, that'd be easier if someone hadn't broken our demonstration two days ago."

"Hey, we have it working… mostly," Varrick explained, brushing off her hostility. "Trust me, we won't even need it all that badly if you just stick to my plan."

Asami groaned. She thought that working with Varrick would get easier over time. When they agreed to work together, they had made a pact: Varrick would stop acting like an ass, and Asami would give him creative input. She had thought, at least in her opinion, that she had successfully met that requirement. It was mostly Varrick's idea of creating a supersonic engine, and she tried not to stifle his abilities. Unfortunately, it seemed that the scoundrel from the Water Tribe had not matured as much as she had hoped. It was for this reason that Asami preferred the company of Zhu Li, who was far easier to work with in any given scenario, and who was supposed to be with them before Varrick foolishly called her off to make more repairs on the newly-developed flight suit.

All of this was to impress the industrialist known as Shang. Asami was familiar with Shang, although her knowledge of him only came recently. Shang used to be a criminal, evading taxes and committing multiple acts of fraud throughout his young adult life. In the years before the fall of the Earth Empire, however, his life had completely turned around. By amassing resources through unknown deeds, he became the head of Ingenious Enterprises, one of the most powerful shipping companies in the world. The man, now nearing his mid-thirties, was said to be an extremely unlikable human being, which only made Asami despise her life that much more.

"You know, you're insufferable," Asami stated angrily. "Seriously, it's like all you ever do is try to screw up my life."

"Hey, you came to me for help, remember," retorted Varrick. "Besides, I didn't have to help you out. I just thought we were buddies now. We saved the city together! If you don't want my help, I'll just leave now."

"No, don't actually go," Asami said, attempting to control her emotions. "Look, let's get through this damn interview, and then we can calm down and get everything back to normal. Deal?"

"Deal!"

Asami looked at Varrick suspiciously, and he looked at her with equal feeling. He did not say anything, which made it all the more peculiar for someone else to have agreed to the arrangement at the same time. The inventors turned around in their seats, noticing that the brass doors of the room had been pushed open, and a lanky figure leaned in the entryway. With a flamboyant posture that highlighted his groin and his smooth, incandescent face, Shang made his presence known with as much style as he could muster.

Asami let out a disappointed sigh. She could already tell that she would be in for a rough time.

"Varrick, I thought you married that assistant of yours," said Shang, taking long strides to his desk before kicking up his feet. "What are you doing hanging around this dame for?"

"Did you just call me a dame?" Asami asked, disgusted.

"Zhu Li's working on important business elsewhere," Varrick said, completely unfazed. "This is Asami Sato, head of Future Industries. She's the reason we're here."

Shang wore thick sunglasses despite the room being dimly lit. He lowered them to look over Asami's body, and then put them back on.

"So you're the woman who helped save Republic City from Kuvira?" he asked, remarkably unimpressed.

"If that's what matters, then yes," grunted Asami. "Mr. Shang, if we could just have a talk about—"

"Do you have any idea how much money I lost in that deal?" Shang asked. "One minute, I'm helping Kuvira manage supplies for her soldiers in a highly-solidifed contract, and the next, I'm being told that peace has arrived, and I'm out of one of the best marketing deals of my life!"

"You had a contract with Kuvira?" said Varrick. "That's impossible: I had a contract with Kuvira! I was designing new energy sources for her, which inadvertently became a super weapon. Where were you during all that time?"

Asami spoke up. "Guys, can we get to discussion or—"

"The Earth Emprie was a big place," Shang said snidely. "I was on the other side of the continent doing crucial research. The only reason you got to get in Kuvira's inner circle was because Ingenious Enterprises doesn't get personally involved with madmen, something you clearly never figured out!"

Varrick rose from his seat, shaking his fist. "Don't call me a madman! The reason I got in Kuvira's inner circle was that I deserved to be there, unlike you, who just like to sit back and watch other people do his dirty work!"

"Varrick, sit down," Asami ordered. "You're really not helping anything. What does any of this have to do with anything?"

"If I knew this scum was going behind my back all these years, I never would have trusted him with anything!"

"How could he be going behind your back if you didn't even know each other back then?" Asami asked reasonably.

"Shut up, honey," Shang said bluntly. "Let the men figure this one out. Now listen to me Varrick, you stupid son of a—whoa!"

All at once, Asami stood up, grabbed both men's collars, and pulled them in close.

"You both need to shut up," she said angrily. "I've been freaking out for months trying to get my company back at full capacity. This is the best chance I have to set things straight, and I'm not letting you two ruin it before it even begins. Varrick, you're a idiot. Shang, I've just met you and I already can't stand to be around you. Trust me, I don't want to be around you either, but if Future Industries is going to survive, I need your help. So, why don't we all just sit down, stay quiet, and get with this meeting like we're supposed to? Agreed?"

Shang smiled and snapped his fingers. "I like your tenacity, Miss Sato. Let's call it a deal."

"What? But… we haven't even showed you what we've been working on?" Asami asked feeling puzzled. She released her grasp on Shang's shirt, and he brushed out the wrinkles.

"You don't trust inventions; you trust people," Shang explained. "And I think you're a very trustworthy and hardworking person. Let's work things out the details over lunch."

"Great," said Varrick, already springing out the door. "See, Asami? I told you that all you had to do was butter him up."

Asami said nothing. She had no idea what was going on, but apparently, something good had happened. At least she could be happy about that.

When Korra entered the dining room, she was surprised to see Lin there as well. Tenzin looked stricken with grief.

"What's going on?" she asked. "You look like someone has died."

"Korra, are you familiar with a man named Kuzo?" Tenzin asked solemnly.

"I've never heard of him."

"I wouldn't expect you to," he admitted. "Kuzo was an old friend of mine. He used to be a radio broadcaster; one of the first to make audio shows popular. He was a very kind, gentle man, and he was one of the first people to welcome me and Pema to Republic City."

"He 'was' a good man? Did something happen to him?"

"We found his corpse last night," Lin stated, her voice teetering on the edge of sadness. "He was stabbed multiple times, but ended up dying from heart failure due to the strain on his body."

"That's… that's horibble," Korra said softly. She looked away from Tenzin, unable to see his pain-ridden face. Korra was not an expert on the human body, at least not the physical aspects of it. She knew the basics, like which parts went where and belonged to whom, but she couldn't decipher a liver from a kidney. Despite all of that, she did know that if a man was stabbed multiple times and did not die of blood loss, then it had to mean that the cuts were non-lethal in nature; in other words: torture.

"So, someone killed your friend?" Korra filled in the blanks. "And you want my help to find him and bring him to justice?"

"No," Tenzin said, much to Korra's surprise. "I hope justice can be arranged from these circumstances, but under no conditions should we actively seek retribution. Korra, Pema and I are leaving for Omashu in order to meet up with Kuzo's wife. We've already met with his children in the city. We want you to stay here and watch over the kids over the next week while we're away."

"What?" Korra asked, feeling stupefied. "There's a killer on the loose, and you want me to stay here and babysit? Why can't you let Jinora or one of the other airbenders do it?"

"Because I trust you to do it the most," Tenzin explained. "Kya's in the Southern Water Tribe, Bumi's in the Fire Nation, and honestly, Jinora's starting to become… negligent. Besides, you're one of the few people Rohan is willing to listen to."

"But the city needs me," Korra argued. "If there's a murderer out there someone, the Avatar should be there to bring him down."

"Don't worry about that," said Lin. "The police are taking care of it. I've already assigned Mako to the case, and as much as your help would be appreciated, it's not the Avatar's duties to stop all crime everywhere. That's our responsibility."

"Korra, don't get involved in something you shouldn't," Tenzin advised her.

Deep down, Korra knew that her mentor was only looking out for her. He had just lost a close friend, and he was trying his best to make sure that no one else got hurt. Even though she was the Avatar, and could take care of herself against any possible assailant, to him, she was still the young child tugging on his beard after meeting him for the first time.

"If you don't want me getting involved, I won't," Korra said, partially hating herself as she said it. "Just make sure that you nab the bastard, okay?"

"We're already on it," Lin smirked. "Mako's talented enough, and he's got a good team working for him. I don't think this crook will be causing any more problems from here on out."

The blood oozed slowly out of Kuzo's midsection, dripping onto the floor in miniscule puddles. Mako covered his nose; a rancid odor filled the room. The character written on the wall was spilling on the bed, yet its horrible shape remained intact. Mako tried to look away, but could not. A strange, morbid fascination drew him closer to the bulging eyes, the throbbing neck, the warm liquid. He felt the terror grow inside of him, and he saw a gentle hand reaching towards the body, meaning to caress it, and he found himself drawing in closer, and closer, and then—

"Mako, are you alright?"

Dim lights. Soft jazz music. Succulent scents. All at once, Mako resumed his place in reality. Beads of sweat drizzled down his forehead. Sy sat across from him, staring at him with a conflicted look of confusion and frustration. She wore a red dress that sparkled in the warmth of the light; he wore his nicest suit. He looked down at his plate—a delicious mixture of meat and noodles—and then looked back at his girlfriend, trying to show any emotion other than terror.

"I'm fine," he lied to her. She squinted.

"Are you sure? Because you keep… well, it's like you're blacking out on me. Something's on your mind."

"That's nonsense," he told her, tugging on his collar. "You're the only thing on my mind tonight."

"Is that so?" she asked, highly suspicious. "Then why are you sweating like that? Am I making you feel that nervous?"

"No, everything is fine," Mako repeated. Perhaps, he figured, if he kept saying that everything was fine, everything would be. Maybe his thoughts would return to normal. Maybe the images and the smells and the sounds of opera music blaring into the twilight would all fade away.

"You know, I'm feeling a bit duped," Sy stated.

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's just… do you have any idea how hard it was to set this date up?" explained the white-haired woman. "Seriously, the amount of variables that I had to account for is staggering. It took me weeks to get a reservation in this place, because I kept getting brushed aside because they think I'm just a kid, which I'm not. Then I had to convince my father to help me get everything in place, but he didn't even want to help because he's a prick. And then, I come all the way here, wearing this dumb, expensive dress which you haven't even complimented on me yet, and when I finally get this done, you act like you've died and come back as a ghost."

Sy crossed her arms, and angrily grunted. Mako immediately pulled himself together. The young lady sitting across from him never got upset without a reason, and even though she most likely wasn't capable of animosity, he still understood that he had seriously messed up.

"I'm sorry, really," he said earnestly. "I've just been distracted by this murder case. I saw something really awful, and I haven't been all there recently because of it. I just need some time to pull it together. And, if it means anything, you really do look beautiful tonight."

"A murder case is giving you psychological trauma, huh?" Sy questioned him. However, she rolled her eyes and smiled. "Okay… that's a pretty decent excuse. So, wanna give me the details?"

"What? No way!" said Mako defensively. "You have no right to that information. It's not something you should hear about, anyway."

"Oh, really? Are you sure I can't change your mind on that?" Sy leaned forward across the table. She puckered her face and pressed in her chest with her shoulders, pushing forward her cleavage and wiggling slightly.

Mako just sighed. "Sy, people are staring at you."

It took a moment for Sy to open her eyes, upon which she noticed the dozen or so eyes glaring awkwardly in her direction. She laughed nervously, and lowered herself back into her seat.

"You should still tell me," she insisted. "I think I can handle it."

"I'm not telling you, at least not now anyway," said Mako, taking another bite of his meal. Sy groaned dejectedly.

"Fine! If you really don't think I should know, then don't tell me. Let's just spend the rest of the nights talking about all of my problems."

"You already told me all of your problems."

"Not all of them. And don't sound so upset about it. You're supposed to want to listen to your woman."

"Okay, Sy," said Mako, realizing he was going to be in for a long night. "How is everything going in your life?"

Sy pressed her chopsticks against her fish and rice. "Oh, everything is just great," she said through clenched teeth. "It took me weeks to get a reservation for this stupid, dumb restaurant, and then I had to listen to my stupid, dumb parent complain about my choices in my life, and then my stupid, dumb boyfriend—who is stupid and dumb—treats me like a kid and refuses to tell me about anything interesting, which makes me want to grab his stupid, dumb head and…"

The chopsticks struck the bottom of the bowl, and were nearly bent in half by the force of her small, pale fist. Mako rested his head in his hands.

"I got a call to investigate a noise complaint, and when I got there, I found a mutilated corpse and bloody writing on the wall," he stated. "The guy was some wealthy star from the early radio days. I'm looking into more details of his death. That's really all that's going on."

Sy removed her chopsticks from the bowl. "Now, was that really so hard to say?"

"I'm not really allowed to talk about an ongoing investigation. If Lin ever finds out, I'm screwed."

"Who cares about Beifong?" Sy asked rhetorically. "We're a couple, and couple's don't keep secrets from each other." She took a large, unladylike bite of her food, causing her small cheeks to puff out like a squirrel. "I always tell you everything. Like, I'm actually the psychotic murderer and I'm planning on taking you home and cannibalizing you."

Mako said nothing, causing Sy to burst into a fit of giggles.

"I'm joking, silly!" she laughed, swallowing her food in one mighty gulp. "I mean, probably…"

Republic City contained both good and evil. At night, these features were exaggerated, expanded, creating a world that was wondrously beautiful and heartlessly manipulative. Depending on the region, one could either experience lovely vistas or be kidnapped and vanish into the night. One might be able to purchase rare oddities, or have part of themselves become a purchasable rare oddity. Those unfamiliar with the landscape had to be careful in the dark, sticking to the highly populated areas and avoiding any shady characters. At night, Republic City was a case of black or white.

However, on occasion, shades of grey were dipped into. The most notable of these greys were the street races. Over the past year, the rebellious youth had devised an event to fulfill their urges for adrenaline. Once per week, they would gather with their fast cars and their obnoxious smirks and their high-inducing substances, and would host a race around the city. These events were the most troublesome activities for the police, who had been chasing the teenagers down to no avail. Even if they were arrested for disturbing the public, they only seemed to be replaced by a dozen more eager youngsters who were just as capable. It had reached a point where the police almost didn't bother, because the effort would be almost completely wasted.

As it was on this night, the group of twenty racers gathered with their fastest cars and most obnoxious smirks near a high-end section of the city. The starting location would change, but the rituals remained constant. They would laugh and insult one another, talking of women and alcohol and glory. They had fans surrounding them, joining in the trash talk and hurling names every which way. It was all in preparation of the nightly race, which was scheduled to last for a good half-hour and lap all the way around the city. If one wanted to, and knew the right person to do so, they would be able to acquire the knowledge of the route and would be able to cheer on their favorite racer as they passed by. The police once attempted to put an end to the races this way, but found that they were being continuously duped by the occasionally intellectual teenagers. The races continued, and the racers had their fun.

One of these racers went by the name of Bow, a name which none of his colleagues knew was real or fabricated. He was the current champion of the street race, having one the last six events by a wide margin. His greased hair was slicked over his face, and his eyes were like that of a hawk. He never spoke, unless it was to stroke his own ego, which he did often. In actuality, he was the timid son of a factory worker, but on the streets, he could be whoever he wanted to be.

That said, when Mako and Sy happened to pass by and the detective spoke his mind, he felt a bit terrified on the inside.

"You know that street racing is illegal, right?" Mako asked warningly. The wave of teenagers simply laughed at him.

"Who cares? We're not hurting anybody!" said on the group members.

"Are you gonna call the police?" another taunted him.

"Get out of the way, you ass!" cried someone else.

Sy tugged on Mako's arm. After their meal had concluded, they had decided to take a long stroll throughout the city streets. It was a decent change of pace; Mako was always busy with his work, and Sy was usually pent up in her house like a lab rat. They had only been walking for a few minutes before Mako saw the teens revving up their engines and guided Sy towards them. All Sy wanted was a nice, quiet evening, but Mako, being the incredible idiot that he was, had to put his police duties first. As it was now, Sy was sick of spending another second with police Mako.

"Let's just leave them," she insisted, pulling on his muscular forearm. He remained firmly planted.

"They're breaking the law," he said unhappily. "I need to report them, or scold them, or something."

"Who cares about them? They're just looking for something to do. Besides, you promised me that you wouldn't deal with your work tonight."

Mako gave one final stare, and then gave in. He led her away from the crowd of drivers, who were jeering him and shouting insults as he went away. He led Sy through a side street, down several blocks, passing by various stores selling food and jewelry and fancy appliances that he could not afford to get. Once his mind was taken off the meddlesome youth, he began to think of other things to talk about. Sy liked conversation, which was one of the reasons why he liked her. There were so many things in his life that he could talk about, and it was comforting to know that someone was always open to listening and acted reassuring. Granted, there were other people in his life who could accomplish the same goal, but they all had some detracting factor. Bolin was brotherly, which was both a blessing and a curse. Korra was helpful and mostly courteous, but when she didn't like something he said or did, she was very blunt in telling him how wrong he actually was, maybe even throwing in an insult for good measure. Asami was probably the easiest to talk to, but she had her own problems going on, and if she was running out of time to talk to Korra, then she didn't really have any left to spare on him. He greatly enjoyed his friends, and luckily, so did Sy, who acted like they were her own kin.

"So, I hear that Bolin is going to be on the Pro-bending game tomorrow," Sy stated offhandedly. "What do you think he's going to talk about?"

"He's Bolin," Mako said simply. "He'll say something."

"Man, you're so lucky to have a brother. I wish I had a sibling."

"The problem with siblings is that you don't really appreciate having them until you need them. Bolin's saved me more times than I can count, but when we younger I was always annoyed by him."

"Hmm… do you think we'll ever have kids some day?" Sy asked innocently. Mako nearly jumped out of his skin.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in shock. "We haven't even… no, let's just not talk about that stuff."

Sy giggled. "I'm just kidding."

"Well, stop kidding," Mako groaned. "I never know when I can take you seriously or not."

The couple stopped for a brief moment as Sy needed to adjust her heel. They happened to take their rest at an old clock tower, which had been running for forty years and still chimed appropriately on every hour. It was vastly approaching nine, yet the pair had no plans on going back home. The night was young; there was still so much to be done.

Mako looked across the street as Sy fumbled with her shoe. There was no particular reason for him to look, yet his eyes were drawn there by some unseen force. A man was standing alone across from him, wearing a thick green goat and glasses with dark rims. The sole source of light came from the clock, which illuminated one side of the street a dull yellow. The man was looking from side to side, almost as if he was checking to see if someone was watching him. Mako barely thought anything of it. Then, the clock's hand moved, and it struck the hour, signaling the series of rings from its enclosed, rusted bell.

One.

From further up the road, twenty engines roared to life. Headlights appeared far away.

Two.

The race had begun. The cars were speeding down the street, passing each other, moving hazardously towards the clock tower.

Three.

Sy finished adjusting her heel, and tugged on Mako's arm. He remained in place, staring at the man. He seemed incredibly familiar for some reason, but Mako had no idea why.

Four.

Mako looked at the man closely. Through the darkness, he noticed that the man was trembling uncontrollably, and was muttering something to himself.

Five.

Tears were streaming down the man's face. Mako felt the sudden urge to move, but his body did not respond. He simply stood there and stared at the man across the street.

Six.

Sy turned towards what Mako was staring emptily at. She didn't understand what was going on. Mako felt an overpowering sense of dread. The man noticed them staring at him, and closed his eyes.

Seven.

He stepped into the middle of the road.

Eight.

There was a blurry streak, a splatter of blood, a shout of pain and horror and confusion. A car swerved and crashed into the opposite sidewalk as chunks of flesh rained onto the pavement.

Nine.

Silence. Everything went numb. The remaining cars passed without making a sound. Mako did not blink. He only saw a muddy haze, and only heard the repeated, bland thumping of his heart in his ears.

Then, all at once, reality broke through the haze. Sy let out a bloodcurdling scream, and collapsed. Mako's instincts took over. He waited for the last car to pass, and then dashed madly across the street. He ran over to the car, which had slammed into a stone wall and was billowing smoke out of the engine. The young racer Bow stumbled out of the car, gasping for air.

"He… he came out of nowhere," he muttered breathlessly to himself. Mako grabbed onto his shoulders, and stared into his eyes.

"What just happened?" Mako questioned him. "You just hit someone. What… what were you doing?"

"I… I didn't mean to kill anyone!" Bow said hysterically. "You have to… believe me! He just… he just came out and… I didn't mean it! Please, I'm so sorry and I didn't… oh please no…"

Bow fell to his knees, crying and wheezing and pleading all at once. Mako didn't know what to do or what to say. He backed away, and went into the road. The bloody torso of the man lied in a crumpled mess in the road. There was no chance that he was alive, but Mako couldn't help but check for a pulse. He was breathing heavily, looking around for someone that might have the answers. Bow was crying in a pathetic mess. Sy sat next to the clock tower, staring at the accident before her with wide, empty eyes.

Mako looked down at the body beneath him. It was staring forever up at the clock tower, its blank gaze watching time tick away. And then, all at once, Mako realized why he the man looked familiar. They had never met, but Mako knew his face from seeing it earlier that day in his investigation. The man, who was lying in pieces across the road, was Kuzo's son.